


Snow Angel

by writingwithmolls



Series: Fairy Tales in the Snow [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Established Relationship, F/F, Mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28234080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwithmolls/pseuds/writingwithmolls
Summary: Ingrid spends Christmas Eve with her family, but she is missing the one who truly loves and understands her.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz
Series: Fairy Tales in the Snow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068284
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	Snow Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kuro_Ko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuro_Ko/gifts).



Ingrid loved the snow.

She loved how it would reflect the light of the moon, mirror it’s gentle brightness against the trees that surrounded her family’s home. When it was fresh, powdery, and new it would sparkle against itself, a blanket of white that was too perfect to disturb. They would always ruin it, needing to go to the shed or digging a car out to run to the store. Then, Ingrid would shove her boots on, her layers of flannels, jacket, hat, and gloves, and take that first step into the white world surrounding her.

Even watching the snow fall out the window into perfect drifts that kissed the trees wasn’t enough to make up for the Christmas party she was stuck at.

Ingrid held her wine glass close to her, not willing to show her nervousness to her close and extended family alike, but also wanting to avoid the socialization. They hadn’t said anything terrible to her, but she could feel the accusations and ridicule ticking away like a bomb in her chest, counting down the moments until they said something.

Her relatives had yet to accuse her of anything, but she wasn’t deaf to their whispers.

_ She turned down Glenn Fraldarius’s proposal. _

_ There must be another man in her life if she was willing to embarrass her childhood friend like that. _

_ Perhaps she is… no, she couldn’t be. _

The topic of conversations were never about how she had been excelling at college or how she was on track to graduate a full year early. No, they wanted to dig under her skin and rip the secrets out that lay underneath.

Ingrid sighed and looked at her phone, glancing at it under the table in hopes that her aunt, uncle, and cousin wouldn’t see the action. Still no messages.

Her wine tasted bitter on her lips as she frowned, tucking the phone away in her pocket once more.

She hoped that Mercedes was having a better night than she. The woman said she had planned to spend Christmas Eve with her brother, keeping away from her father’s with the excuse. Ingrid hadn’t heard from her in a few hours and she worried that her complaining had scared her off for the night. It was fair, she supposed, but she would have to apologize to Mercedes in the morning.

The conversation drew on with the night and Ingrid entertained herself by watching the candles flicker in the windows. The flames danced and met the snowfall outside, each begging to meet through the pane of glass that kept them apart. The wine kept her warm, even though her family home with its stone floors and high ceilings was always chilly. A draft coursed through the room, one that her father was never able to find.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she found it in her hands a little  _ too _ quickly. The last time had been a false alarm—nothing but an email promising that she could still buy a digital gift card for the best food in Faerghus just in time for Christmas—but this time Mercie’s contact graced her screen.

_ Come to the front door? _

The message brought a smile to her face. Perhaps Mercedes had sent a gift and knew it had been delivered? She excused herself from the table, away from the family that was hers in only blood, and ducked into the hallway.

The front door was a big wooden one that she had to wrench open, the cold chill of air greeting her and stinging her face.

Standing in the snow was Mercedes.

"Hey," she said, a smile on her lips. Ingrid could see her car idling in the driveway, the smoke from the exhaust pipe curling up towards the night sky. She was wearing a heavy tan jacket, her boots disappearing into the inches of snow under her feet. Small snowflakes were beginning to collect in her short hair. "I just wanted to say hello. It felt wrong to leave you with your family and not even hug you on Christmas Eve."

"Mercie?" Ingrid asked, as if it could be an apparition that was sent to tease her. Perhaps a ghost of Christmas past that wasn't pleased that she was spending her holiday moping with a bottle of wine. "What are you doing? It's a three hour drive."

"I know." She still lingered on the bottom step, not daring the climb as her hands dug into the pockets of her coat. "Emile wanted to visit his boyfriends and it felt wrong alone in the house. I know that our decision was that it was too risky to invite me to the party, but… you seemed miserable. I brought over cookies as an excuse for me to drop by for a few minutes—”

Ingrid charged into the snow, not caring that she was just wearing slacks and a sweater that seemed too feminine on her or that she was wearing heels that bit at her feet. She hugged Mercedes, hoping that she was real. She was warm, warmer than Ingrid’s house ever was.

“Please stay,” Ingrid whispered, burying her face in her pink scarf. “We can just tell my family that your brother was busy and you didn’t want to spend the holiday alone—please?”

“You don’t have to beg me,” Mercedes said with a small laugh, doing her best to shield her from the snow. “I’m sorry that I was ignoring your messages, the roads up here were a bit difficult with the ice.”

“I love you,” Ingrid said before she could catch herself. The cold and snow invigorated her in a way she could hardly understand. She didn’t care to understand, anyways. Mercie was there. It didn’t matter what her family would attempt to throw her way—if she had to meet all of her cousins’ partners, they could surely stand to meet her “best friend.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” Mercedes responded, kissing the top of her head. “Now you get your freezing self back inside and I’ll get the cookies from the car.”

Perhaps for her family it was just a sweet, thoughtful visit from the von Martritz’s daughter who had moved so far away, but to Ingrid it was the best gift she could hope to receive. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kuro,
> 
> Merry Christmas! You're my favorite Mercigrid writer so I hope this was a sweet piece <3 your works (and you as a person xD) always give me "fuck off into a cabin in the middle of the woods and write poetry" vibes, so here's to hoping I did that idea a little justice.
> 
> <3 Molls


End file.
